The Bue Lizard

By Yoo Hoo

Life is not a ferris wheel in Golden Gate park.

Nor is it a fire hydrant on Schenectady Avenue cooling Negroes in the hot August sun.

It is merely the ups and downs of a tumultous Jet Blue flight from Fort Lauderdale to Oakland.

You go girl. You go.

You go until you can’t stop because the stop sign’s been removed by a veering Lincoln led by a USC jock ten Coronas later.

You can’t see the sign? Well, why don’t you slow down and check again.

Maybe you didn’t see it cuz your eyes r closed. Maybe you didn’t see it cuz your mouth is full and your ears are red.

Maybe you didn’t see cuz your blind as a bat on a moonless night in a Bedouin cave off the coast of Jakarta.

But then,

But then there’s always tommorow

when the sun will shine and the ice will melt, and the snow will turn to water. And the lizard will emerge from beneath the rock and look you in the eye and say with a puzzled smile, “Hey, what in heaven’s name do you think you’re doing?”

PS This poem is meaningless.